


baby (you're like lightning in a bottle)

by pinkgrapefruit



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, electric love - BØRNS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkgrapefruit/pseuds/pinkgrapefruit
Summary: “He curses like a sailor, takes way too long to get into drag and rarely does the dishes but I love him very much."(or, vanjie meets brooke's momma and god is he nervous)





	baby (you're like lightning in a bottle)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is based off a prompt sent to me by prettyskylark in which Vanjie meets Brooke's mom. It's a little different to my usual style but I may have a chapter two if you like it. Again, special thanks to Thorpe for beta-ing me and generally just being flipping fantastic, I'm not sure what I'd do without them. As always, all work is my own and although this is based on real people, both the characters and the story are my own interpretation and therefore fully fabricated. Enjoy! x

“Babe if you don't stop moving I'm going to have to do something, you're making me feel a little seasick,” quipped Brooke as Vanjie bobbed around him like a cork. 

 

The typically jumpy queen was somehow (against all of Brooke Lynn’s will to live) more jittery than usual. Admittedly, he could see why. Today Vanjie was going to meet his Mom, and whilst this would be hard for any couple, as Brooke’s first boyfriend - he’d been anxious all morning. The coffee shop he had chosen for the interaction was big enough not to feel claustrophobic but small enough to have an intimate conversation. The walls were a soft blue and the floors a dark wood colour. Opposite the bar, on the left of the shop were wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that Vanjie was now pacing along. Every thirty seconds or so he’d stop and pull out a book, methodically flicking through the pages or reading the blurb before starting the cycle again. It wasn't ideal (nor was it making Brooke any less nauseous) but the adorable look of concentration that framed his features, and the charming quirk of his brows when he read something interesting, allowed him to let it slide.

 

The large, industrial clock struck eleven mere seconds before Brooke’s mom walked through the door. By this point Vanjie had returned to his seat, leg bobbing to the acoustic pop playing through the shop. Both boys’ coffees had gone cold and remained untouched as Brooke rose to greet her. “Momma!” he cried as she ambled over, “I’ve missed you.” 

 

This was a side of him that Vanjie had never seen and watching the two interact was sweet, reminding him of his own mother, somewhere in Florida. 

 

“I’ve missed you too honey,” replied his mom before turning to Vanjie with a warm smile. “And you must be Vanessa.” 

 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his knees having given out from the nerves. He wasn't really sure how to approach this, grateful that she had gone in with the more comfortable name but still remarkably unsteady. He felt like he was navigating new waters and was sure that both of the Hytes could see his cogs turning. Snapping out of it he rose from the plush couch, extending his hand. “Its really lovely to meet you, Joan,” he smiled, going for calm and confident but probably ending up closer to a serial killer grin. 

 

“Please, just call me mom,” she replied, with the same speed and ease her son had in conversations.

 

Brooke knew the signs, had been with Vanjie long enough that he knew when he was watching a trainwreck in slow motion. He’d seen it the night he was eliminated - the night he’d fallen apart at the seams and Brooke had been the one to hold him up. The wheels going behind the eyes, the heaving of the breath. “Hey V, do you want to go grab another drink?” He cut through the cloud of anxiety with practised ease. Thankful for the excuse to leave, Vanjie stood up, wiping his clammy palms on the black denim of his jeans. Once he was out of earshot, Brooke turned back to his mom. “He’s really nervous,” he said, stating the blatantly obvious in an attempt to pick up the conversation. 

 

“Bless him,” came the empathetic response. “It must be hard for him, knowing that he’s your first boyfriend,” she continued. The Canadian queen hummed in acknowledgement. He knew that V was more apprehensive about his mom's shaky past views towards drag queens in particular. While she’d never really been against it, she had always been awkward in discussions about it. Asking about drag was always a tenuous addition to the conversation - that was, until recently. 

 

“How did you meet?” pressed Joan, knowing the answer but trying to distract Brooke from his nervous wreck of a boyfriend fretting in a queue. 

 

“Mom,” he retorted, seeing straight through her. She raised an eyebrow and he could read her in a second. ‘Humour me’ said her body language, all kind smirks and tilted heads. He paused and took a deep breath in. “So, it was the first day on set and we were getting back into our boy gear,” He looked to her, as if asking for permission to continue, she nodded. “I looked over and I caught the eye of a short Puerto Rican with this amazing energy around him. I thought that only Vanessa carried  it but then seeing him in boy clothes still with that confidence, it was sexy.” He bit back a sigh at the thought, then focused his gaze back on his mom. It was odd to him to be having this conversation for the first time at the age of 33. After taking a gulp of his long cold coffee, he kept going. “So after that, we both realised that we liked each other and it became sort of a game. How long could we hide for? Where could we kiss? And then one day, when I was in the smoking area -” Joan groaned and raised an eyebrow again. “What?” he fired back defensively. Pulling a face that made his mother laugh, he went back to his story, waxing poetic about V until he reached the present day. 

 

Upon that, Vanjie returned with a large bottle of water and a croissant. “She fucking pressured me into buying food” came his indignant response when Brooke saw the pastry in his hand. He made eye contact with him. “Shit,” he muttered quickly. Realising he’d done it again, he frowned and slowly sank into the leather of the couch. His face must have gone bright red, true Puerto Rican style too because, despite the knowledge that he was extremely embarrassed, Brooke chuckled softly to himself. His mom joined in too, watching as the younger man looked flustered and began to apologise profusely. 

 

“I did raise a teenage boy, you know,” said Joan once her son had stopped laughing, “I'm no stranger to curse words.” the taller man’s response was both less dignified and less vocal as he moved over to sit beside his boyfriend and softly kissed him on the cheek. 

 

As if seeing a new start, he intertwined their fingers and loudly proclaimed, “Momma, this is my boyfriend.” The two looked at him like he was insane, Vanjie still worrying his necker. Before continuing, B batted his hand away. “He curses like a sailor, takes way too long to get into drag and rarely does the dishes but I love him very much and I hope that you will too.” Upon hearing this, the aforementioned blush crept back up Vanessa's chest and peppered his cheeks in a rosy scarlet. 

 

Joan just smiled, the same calm smirk her son favoured, “He makes you very happy, then he’s good enough for me.”

 

Brooke just looked at V, their eyes meeting in overwhelming happiness, “What did I tell you?” He teased lovingly. Vanessa just met his smirk and softly pressed his lips to Brooke’s. 

 

“Fuck you” he mumbled, meaning simultaneously none and all of it. 

 

“Is that a challenge?” retorted the older man, glad that they were both back to normal. 

 

Joan coughed, an easy grin on her face, “Now boys, why don't you show me some performances?” They separated quickly but it was safe to say that Vanjie was no longer a jittery mess and Brooke, well he didn't feel quite so sick anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked writing this! Anywho, I really hope you enjoyed it, if you want to see another chapter or if you've got any feedback/constructive criticism you can catch me in the comments here or over on tumblr @pink-grapefruit-cafe. I love you all and your feedback truly motivates me to keep writing xx


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